


Testing the Waters

by MendacityDarling



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M, Making Out, Nipple Licking, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-07 17:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MendacityDarling/pseuds/MendacityDarling
Summary: “Sebastian,” you say and it’s a warning to him a warning to yourself, a prayer, a request, you don’t know what the fuck it is. You just know that he needs to put his shirt back on if he wants you to focus on any thought deeper than how delicious the skin covering his collarbones must taste.He says your name in the same tone of voice, but his has an edge of mischief to it. His playful side coming out; his smile turning a slight bit boyish in the tilt of his lips, but his eyes are still an impending typhoon.A lightning storm is gathering energy between the two of you. Your eyes move to his mouth, and you watch as his wicked tongue traces over a plump bottom lip.





	1. Calm of the Storm

**Inspired by:**

He was an entirely different specimen of a man. Men like him shouldn’t have been allowed to exist, they just made it unfair for the rest of the world. But in that moment, you couldn’t really care about equity. Not when he stood before you, bare chest, broad and bronzed and he had that fucking smile on your face. It was the same smile he'd been throwing your way all afternoon. The one you knew meant trouble. It wasn’t even in his mouth. Yes, his mouth was delectable and his lips full and pink and you wanted to feel them on every inch of your skin, but his smile was in his eyes. It wasn’t in the curve of his lips, but in the way his eyes darkened, the blue of them which sometimes shone the same color of a clear summer sky suddenly turned stormy, blue-black with intensity, the ocean after sunset.

“Sebastian,” you say and it’s a warning to him a warning to yourself, a prayer, a request, you don’t know what the fuck it is. You just know that he needs to put his shirt back on if he wants you to focus on any thought deeper than how delicious the skin covering his collarbones must taste.

He says your name in the same tone of voice, but his has an edge of mischief to it. His playful side coming out, his smile turning a slight bit boyish in the tilt of his lips, but his eyes are still an impending typhoon.

A lightning storm is gathering energy between the two of you. Your eyes move to his mouth, and you watch as his wicked tongue traces over a plump bottom lip. You can tell he’s been chewing on it again like he tended to do when he was nervous or overthinking something. You want to mirror his movements, you want your tongue to be tracing his lips, you want his teeth on your lips instead of his own.

“You said you wanted to swim.” His voice is innocent, but you can’t think of anything innocent with him so close and so undressed.

The truth is you’d seen other men naked, you’d seen them topless, you’d even seen men who’d made it their job to sculpt their bodies until they looked like Adonis, but those men weren’t Sebastian. Those men didn’t make your stomach do cartwheels and stumble on the landing, they didn’t inspire such a fucking burning urge so deep inside your body that your brain short-circuited and you became a drooling idiot.

You were supposed to be better than this.

You are a grown ass woman with control over her fucking hormones, but Sebastian defies logic and challenges any semblance of self-control you may have learned over the years. He defies reason and thus was unfair and goddamn it…

He is rolling his pants up and wading closing to the stream you’d come across on your hike.

“You’re going to swim in your jeans?” You ask, fully aware that you’re still fully clothed in the outfit you’d chosen for you hike; and because you were a normal person, you were in workout pants and a t-shirt, not fucking skinny jeans and the most impossibly tight black shirt known to man. Not that what shirt Sebastian wore made a difference since he’d ditched it the second you suggested swimming.

You’d expected him to call your bluff, but instead, he stepped out of his shoes, removed his socks and stripped of his shirt.

Bastard.

Sebastian looks down at his own body before answering you. “I’m not wearing anything under my jeans.”

Your throat goes dry and you’re forced to look down his body too—HA forced, more like desperately seeking any reason to gawk. Your eyes follow the trail of hair leading down his chest to his abdomen and then lower, following the lines of tantalizing V at his hips and lower yet, getting stuck at where aforementioned underwear should be.

You glance at his pants, mouth suddenly partched and watering at the same time. Your tongue trails over your lips and you can’t hide the fact that you want to devour him.

It’s in that moment that Sebastian hands over some of the power to you.

Suddenly, he’s not the only one capable of teasing. In the quiet of the forest clearing you’ve found yourselves in, you can hear Sebastian take a deep sharp gulp of air, and when you tear your gaze from his clothed cock to his face, you notice that he’s staring at your mouth.

Because such a moment of power is so rare and having Sebastian’s attention on you is so addictive, you lick your lips again, slowly dragging your tongue over your bottom lip before taking it between your teeth.

He says your name, his voice hoarse, eyes transfixed on your mouth.

Can someone come from just hearing another person say their name? Because you just might.

He says your name again, this time it's less like a silent prayer and more like a command. His eyes meet yours, there is no mischief there, just lust. “Come here.”

You kick off your shoes and socks, the damp grass soft under your feet.

“I’m not wearing a swimsuit,” you point out, uselessly. But you’re emboldened by the gruffness in his voice, by the clear want you hear when he says your name. You’re in love with the idea that you can turn him on, that you can make him lose control over his rationality as much he does to you.

So, you tuck your thumbs into your workout pants and push them down to your feet. Your panties are conservative enough, meaning that they cover your ass completely and aren’t see through, but you’ve always had a proclivity for nice lingerie to fit every occasion. These ones are forest green and have lace trim at the waistband. You know you looked good in them.

Next, your shirt comes off, baring your midriff and decent cleavage. And you have the desired effect on Sebastian.

The next time he says your name it’s tight and impatient. “I _swear_ to _fucking god_ if you don’t get over here _right now_ —”

“You’ll what?” You aren't going to let him get away with it that easily nor are you going to give in now that you are the one with some of the power. Whatever had given you the courage to strip in public also gave you the patience not to climb him like a tree right then and there. Not that he’s offered yet. Too busy teasing you with his gorgeous chest.

“Push me and find out.” He ends his statement with your name, using it as the most effective punctuation you’ve ever heard.

Your legs move on their own accord, taking steps towards the stream where he stands waiting for you, hand outstretched because even in the middle of this battle of wills, he’s still a gentleman.

“Maybe I _want_ you to show me what you can do,” you say, taking his hand and letting him help you into the water. You notice then that his large hand envelops yours completely, his fingers at least twice the size of yours in length and in width. His hand is warm and his fingers strong and soft. You want them touching more than just your hands.

As if he could read your mind, his free hand finds your waist and settles there while the other keeps hold of your fingers, bringing them up to his lips. “You like pushing my buttons.” His mouth moves over your fingertips as he speaks, eyes still fixed to yours.

This close you can tell that the stormy navy blue holds hints of turquoise and silver.

Your own eyes travel from his lips to hold his gaze and the back to his lips, unable to resist the gravitational pull.

Noticing this, he smirks, all mischief again and lets his tongue swipe over the tips of your fingers, tasting your skin, eyes still fixed to yours. You hold your breath, not trusting yourself to do anything other than gape at what he is doing.

“Seb—” It comes out as a whine.

“Tell me what you want,” he orders, teeth grazing where he’d previously licked.

“Kiss me.” And he does, lunging forward to take your face between his large hands, bringing your lips together.

All your thoughts explode into white noise and the only remaining thought is a mantra repeating Sebastian’s name as you kiss him back. His tongue presses against your lips, parting them, sliding into your mouth. You can taste him, and it’s a taste so distinct and unique to him. You want more, you want to be closer. Your back arches, melding into him. Your hand trapped between your bodies now resting on his hard chest, his skin, sun-warmed.

And god he kisses with the same intensity of his gaze, with the same fervor he puts into everything in his life. He kisses like kissing you is what is meant to do, and this is what he’d been put on the planet for. Like kissing you is the answer to every question ever asked.

You feel his teeth on your bottom lip, nipping then tugging, followed by a gentle swipe from his tongue.

When he pulls back, you chase him, letting him draw a short breath before you’re kissing him, tasting him, sucking his bottom lip between yours. You feel his moan in the reverberation against your lips. Feel desire in the leg he presses between your own legs, in the way his knee parts your thighs, in the hard evidence pressed against your lower abdomen.

He hadn’t just been teasing you earlier he was teasing himself.

Finally, you both need to part so you can breathe, your foreheads pressed together, panting.

“Tell me what you want.” You repeat his words between gasps for air.

“How about I show you?”

And all you can really do at this moment is nod.


	2. Part 2

Sebastian’s reflexes are quicker than your lust ladened mind can think, too muddled to comprehend anything but Sebastian’s mouth on yours. You’re so disoriented that when his hands drop from your face to your ass and he lifts you out of the water and against his body, you yelp and squirm almost causing both of you to fall into the water. But Sebastian is strong, his muscles for more than just appearance’s sake. He laughs, forehead pressed against yours.

“I got you.”

“Thought we were swimming.” You cling to his shoulders; nails leaving little crescent marks against his skin.

“Really? Cause I was planning on making you cum so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a few days,” he says. “But if you really want to swim--”

You want to play along with his bluff, but even more, you want him to make do with his promise. Your grip on his shoulders loosens when you’re confident he’s not going to drop you.

“Hmmm.” You press your mouth to his jaw and then lower, licking at the skin on his neck, his stubble tickling your lips.

“Does hmm mean let me down so I can swim, or please fuck me, Seb?”

You still don’t answer him, pressing kisses to whatever bit of his skin you can reach. You thread your fingers appreciatively through his soft hair, giving it a gentle tug and guiding his mouth back to yours.

He pulls back against you. “Uh-uh-uh, answer first.”

You narrow your eyes at him, tightening your grip on his hair, but he just keeps grinning at you, his lips just out of reach.

You bring yourself closer to him, lips brushing his ear. “Fuck me, Sebastian, please, please. Fuck. Me.”

“Shit.”

And the bastard does drop you. You don’t fall completely into the water, your legs catching you, Sebastian’s arms grabbing you when you stumble. You’re pressed flush against one another, and before you can yell at him for scaring the crap out of you, he kisses you. You can’t stay mad with his talented tongue teasing your lips, or deft fingers sliding up your sides, toying with the bottom elastic band of your bra.

Moaning into the kiss, you rock against him, feeling how hard he is. Your hand leaves his hair, traveling south, grabbing his cock through his jeans. He’s warm and hard and-- 

“I want to taste you first,” you say between kisses and at the words, Sebastian rocks his hips forward into your hand. “Want you in my mouth.”

Your name is the only answer you get from him and you waste no time unbuttoning his jeans and drawing his cock out. True to his words, he’s not wearing anything underneath. His weight fills your hand and you stroke him. Every part of him was sculpted from marble without exception.

You meet his steely eyes. They’re dazed, clouded.

“Is that what you want?” You press another kiss to his jaw, then his neck, his shoulder, his chest. Your eyes blink up at him.

“That coquettish look doesn’t suit you,” he’s breathless when he speaks and that belies his words.

And for his lies, you tease his nipple between your teeth, worrying it before biting down.

“Ow, shit.” He jolts, his fingers finding your hair and you can’t help but laugh. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“That’s the plan.” You circle his nipple with your tongue and move lower still, following a trail towards your prize.

You get on your knees in the water, it’s awkward and rough, the rocks beneath you not the most comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you have Sebastian wrapped around your finger.

“I’m supposed to be making you cum.”

“Are you upset you’re not getting your way.” You press your lips to the tantalizing jut of his hip bone. Every aspect of his body perfectly defined and with its own hypnotic draw.

His nails drag through your hair, sending shivers down your back, delicious retaliation on Sebastian’s part.

“I’m not going to turn down a blowjob.”

“Hmm?” A kiss pressed to his stomach. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“No, you’re being a fucking tease, but a man can hope.”

You chuckle at that, your breath brushing over his cock, now hard and untouched before you. You’re rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from him. You’ve tortured him enough.

Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, stroking firmly, bringing the tip to your lips. Your tongue flicks over it, tasting him. When he moans it goes right through you, the only encouragement you ever needed to stop teasing him and do something. You swallow him down, taking your time to appreciate the weight of his cock on your tongue, the way he tugs at your hair, the shallow pants coming from him. It all mixes with the sound of the forest, the running stream, the breeze rushing past trees, and this is the most natural thing you could be doing.

A litany of your name and curse words tumbles out of Sebastian’s mouth. They cloud your mind and you lose yourself in the simple pleasure of giving. Of pleasing someone you care so much about.

Sebastian thrusts forward, a small jerking motion, uncontrolled, driven by desire. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and you tighten your grip on his hip but give him what he wants.

He’s a prisoner to pleasure, his expression tense and relaxed all at once. A battle between the mind and the body. He wants to cum but he doesn’t want it too soon.

_God_ , he’s so fucking beautiful. Reduced to his purest, uninhibited self.

He whispers your name. A request, a prayer, a wish.

You let him slip out of your mouth and continue stroking him, gentle and slow.

“Tell me what you want.” “So fucking close.” His words come out in staccato. It isn’t exactly an answer, but it’s enough for you. You wrap your lips around his cock and take him as deeply as you can handle, cheeks hollowing, head bopping, thoroughly enjoying the experience of causing him such evident pleasure.

Sebastian cums silently, his fingers tightening in your hair, his mouth hanging open, his body taut and vibrating.

You swallow before letting his cock fall from your lips. It’s a miracle he’s still standing from the way his body shakes. You rub his thighs with your hands, soothingly.

You stand, the rocks having left indents in your knees, but you don’t care. Your arms loosely wrap around his waist, face pressed to his chest, leaving kisses at the conjunction where neck and shoulder meet.

“I’m going to get you back for that,” he says, breathless, eyes hazy still. But he’s smiling and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You continue peppering his skin with feather-light kisses. This close, you can feel his heart beating under your touch.

“Both.” His fingers trail up and down, tracing the valley of your spine.

You shiver from his touch.

“Are you cold?” His arms tighten around you. “Maybe we should move this to the grass.”

You tilt your head up to look at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss you, tongue sweeping into your mouth, surely tasting himself. He takes your hand in his and you let him guide you out of the water and towards a patch of sunlit grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a multipart story which I'll update as I write. More coming soon. Not sure but there might be a plot sometime in the future.


End file.
